


big blue and in command

by Zekkass



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Blowjobs, Character Study, Control, M/M, Oviposition, PWP, Power Dynamics, Sex Toys, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 07:57:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8570626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zekkass/pseuds/Zekkass
Summary: "The way I see it, fighting together means there's got to be a mutual understanding," Wheeljack says. "Can't make tactical plans without knowing how your partner's going to jump, yeah? So we've got to get to know each other, and fast.""You want to interface with me," Ultra Magnus says, familiar with this line of thought."Bingo."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Kijikun requested TFP Ultra Magnus/Wheeljack; oviposition or authority kink.
> 
> Well! Here you go! I've never written these two before, but I hope it's readable anyways. Enjoy!

Ultra Magnus finds Wheeljack waiting for him in his ship, hips cocked and hand up in a little wave when he comes inside.

"'bout time. I was beginning to think you wouldn't show," Wheeljack says, tacking on an extraneous sir to the end of his sentence.

Ultra Magnus tries not to let it aggravate him, not here and now when Wheeljack's making his own abortive attempts to try and bridge the gap that exists between them. An unsolicited upgrade to his ship had been... well. He wouldn't reject the upgrade, even if he checked it over himself before he took his ship on any future flights - as was warranted given Wheeljack's reputation.

"I came at the time you specified," Ultra Magnus says, by way of answering Wheeljack's greeting.

There's silence, and Ultra Magnus realizes belatedly that he may have provoked an argument, if Wheeljack takes him up on it.

Wheeljack shrugs, the gesture cutting off Ultra Magnus' concerns at the pass, and he moves closer to Ultra Magnus, forcing him to use his alternate optical sensors to track his expressions.

"We've got a little problem," Wheeljack says. "And I've got a little solution, if you're willing to hear me out. Think you can sit through my whole spiel without quoting something from regulations at me?"

Ultra Magnus says nothing, unwilling to commit without more information.

"Right." Wheeljack shrugs a little, stepping back. "I think I've got the makings of a solution to our little teamwork problem. Want to hear me out or not?"

"Yes," Ultra Magnus says, shifting his weight. The solutions to handling miscommunication in the field was often to reorganize who was assigned to who, and to match leadership styles with mechs who were willing to follow them. Over the course of the war that luxury had become just that, and so - he had been given to the Wreckers.

How exactly would Wheeljack ask him to change?

"The way I see it, fighting together means there's got to be a mutual understanding," Wheeljack says. "Can't make tactical plans without knowing how your partner's going to jump, yeah? So we've got to get to know each other, and fast."

"You want to interface with me," Ultra Magnus says, familiar with this line of thought.

"Bingo."

Silence.

It stretches.

Wheeljack slowly lowers his finger-guns, looking up at him. He might be nervous. He might not be. Ultra Magnus betrays nothing, thinking of what Optimus Prime had told him, thinking of how desperate the stakes are; they _are_ the last bastion of Autobot life in the galaxy with any form of organized leadership...

If it has a chance of working, he has to take it.

"What act do you want to perform?" He asks.

Wheeljack grins, picking up the return without any missed beats.

"Easy. I got a bag of toys from Lexus V, and I figured you wouldn't be into anything intimate, so all you have to do is help put them inside of me, and stick around while they come out. Free show for you, and I can help with an overload once we're done. Deal?"

"Yes," Ultra Magnus says, refusing to step back from the brink. He leads Wheeljack to his own berth, watching him rustle in his compartments to pull out a black bag. He opens the draw-strings, meets Ultra Magnus' optics, and upends the whole container over the berth, covering one end of it in little...ovoid spheres.

"What are these?" Ultra Magnus says, staring down at the small devices. Explosives?

"Ah, they're harmless," Wheeljack says. "They're essentially metal shapes that expand when you expose them to a specific frequency, and shrink to another. Handy if your ship comes under attack when you're playing - just shrink 'em down and get to business. You can appreciate that, right?"

"I do," Ultra Magnus says, reaching out to pick up one of the small devices. It's faintly cool to the touch, a solid weight in his hand. He looks at Wheeljack, unsure exactly of where he's supposed to insert these...up until Wheeljack lays himself out on the rest of his berth and opens his legs - and valve panel.

Oh.

Wheeljack has no shame, reaching out with a hand to spread his valve wide, idly rubbing his outer node as if he weren't on display in front of his superior officer without warning.

"Wouldn't it be easier to shrink them down and insert them that way?" Ultra Magnus asks, attempting to move past his sudden reflex outrage. He wants to order Wheeljack to put his equipment away, report to the washracks, then to brig for due punishment, but that's judgment that belongs to another time, one where they had the luxury of shuffling duty rosters and expecting there to _be_ enough mechs to fill a gap in a unit's ranks.

"It would be," Wheeljack agrees. "That's how I enjoy them on my own - it's been centuries since I had help putting them in the fun way."

"Which is?"

Wheeljack leans forward, picking up an egg and emitting a sound - the entire pile expands in diameter, growing large enough to barely fit in Ultra Magnus' hand.

"Get them inside like this," Wheeljack says, emitting another sound to stop the growth. "It'll take some lubricant, but it's possible - and frag, but they feel good in there."

"I understand," Ultra Magnus says, although he has no such understanding. This is something he has to do, given that he's committed himself to it, and if it allows them to better work together on the battlefield - 

He stalls, moving the entire pile of eggs into the space between Wheeljack's legs, focusing on the mundane task before he kneels on the berth, examining Wheeljack's frame.

"At this size you cannot take them all," he points out.

"I want to try," Wheeljack says, and he pulls his hand away from his valve, bracing it on the berth, looking at him expectantly.

There's nothing else Ultra Magnus can do, so he reaches out, picking up one egg. He feels...not shame, but something approaching an unprofessional attraction. It's irrelevant to his task at hand, and Wheeljack has so far been wise enough not to push for anything more than the simple pleasure of a shared task.

He brings the egg to the lips of Wheeljack's valve.

Here he stops, looking up at Wheeljack's face.

"Don't tell me you're going to make me beg for it," Wheeljack says. "C'mon, this isn't hard - "

"Sir," Ultra Magnus corrects.

"Are you joking."

They stare at each other, and Ultra Magnus sets his face in a stern mask, waiting for Wheeljack to relent. He's about to put a series of interfacing toys into Wheeljack, surely, for _this_ he can have an iota of respect - 

"Frag," Wheeljack says. It's impossible to tell how he feels. "You're a real tight-aft. Sir."

Ultra Magnus doesn't comment, carefully pushing the egg against Wheeljack's valve, turning it slowly to coat it in the thin layer of lubricant that's dripping out of Wheeljack's valve already. Wheeljack revs his engine, then cuts it when Ultra Magnus looks up at him, hands stilling.

"Sorry. Sir."

"You're permitted to make noise," Ultra Magnus says, gently pushing the egg forward, now, observing how Wheeljack's valve seems to open and open itself the more he pushes the egg into it. There should be a limit, but instead - his fingertips touch the edges of Wheeljack's valve, and the egg continues its journey, slowly moving up his valve.

Wheeljack whines, frame twitching in little motions that draw Ultra Magnus' sensors. His charge is already rising, little bursts of energy touching Ultra Magnus' fingertips. He continues to push the egg forward, getting lubricants and other fluids on his fingers, and Wheeljack finally emits a long, drawn-out moan.

"Frag, that's good - " The sound stops, Wheeljack looks at him, and he squirms a little. "Sir."

However difficult Wheeljack is to parse, even Ultra Magnus can pick up on that.

Is there...a chance Wheeljack enjoys his authority? Enjoys responding to it as if it were one of these toys being placed in him?

An interesting possibility, Ultra Magnus concludes, and he reaches for another egg, picking it up and guiding it to Wheeljack's valve. There's a test he could perform, one that would push the point home.

"Thank me for these," he says, deciding to risk it. "Or I will not insert these into you."

"You want me to - yes, sir, fine - just get on with it. One is _not_ enough."

Ultra Magnus waits. Wheeljack fixes his optics on him, then vents.

"Right. Thank you, sir." It's still sarcastic, but his charge doesn't diminish.

Ultra Magnus nods and begins to push the second egg in. It's easier this time, Wheeljack's valve already stretched open and thoroughly wet - up until he bumps the egg into the other one.

"Just - just push, I've got my gate open. They'll have a place to go," Wheeljack says, speech uncoordinated, optics locked on the sight of Ultra Magnus' hands.

"Yes," Ultra Magnus says, pushing until the egg is stable within Wheeljack's valve, unlikely to come out without interference. He picks up another, and waits while holding it against Wheeljack's outer node.

This time it approaches sincerity, or at least a charge-fueled desperation: "Thank you, sir!"

Ultra Magnus lowers the egg and pushes it in, realizing as he does that he's smiling, a mark of how he's enjoying this.

It's strange, but the feeling persists as he puts one egg after another into Wheeljack, forcing them through his valve and into his prepared gestation chamber. Wheeljack's torso slowly swells, the chamber unfolding as more eggs settle into it, and his charge surges every time he's forced to stop and think and remember to thank Ultra Magnus for the eggs.

His optics are unfocused by the time Ultra Magnus pushes one of the final eggs into him. He's as swollen as he can become, plating pushed open by distorted protoform, and Ultra Magnus can't help it - as he guides this egg inside he reaches out to touch Wheeljack's exposed protoform with slick fingers.

They aren't real eggs, he reminds himself, stroking along the exposed seam.

"What are you doing - sir - " Wheeljack's spitting static, squirming a little as the egg settles as far in as it can go. He's too full to take any more except in his valve, so Ultra Magnus collects an egg with one hand, guiding it inside.

"I'm touching you. Should I stop?"

"No - sir," Wheeljack cycles his vents, hips pushing up to take the egg, and he actually fits in the third one, with only four eggs left on the berth. "Thank you sir!"

Ultra Magnus pulls his hand away from Wheeljack's torso to slide his valve panel shut.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

Ultra Magnus gets up from the berth, putting the extra eggs into the bag and setting it to the side.

"You said you would help me reach overload," he says. "Are you still willing to do that?"

"What - sure, anything you want. Not sure if I can move much like this - "

Ultra Magnus opens his spike panel, deciding to trust his own desire at this point, moving up to the berth.

"Use your mouth," he orders, and meets Wheeljack's optics - they're unfocused, but they slowly align themselves so Wheeljack can stare at him, and he stares back, certain that this is what they both want.

"Frag," Wheeljack says softly, and adds: "Yes, sir." It's closer to a reverent tone, now.

Good.

The berth creaks as Wheeljack slowly pushes himself up on his knees, vents blowing hot air into the space between them as he kneels on the berth, bracing a hand on Ultra Magnus' hip.

He leans forward, and Ultra Magnus watches his torso brush against the berth through his tertiary optics, keeping his secondaries trained on Wheeljack's face as his primaries focus on the ceiling.

He doesn't want to move to potentially throw Wheeljack off-balance, not when he's carefully wrapping his lips around the tip of Ultra Magnus' spike, then sucking. It feels - 

It's enough to make him moan, pleasure flooding his circuits as Wheeljack licks up and down his spike, finding every node and nuzzling it, making a mess of himself as he sucks harder on his tip.

Wheeljack has one hand braced on his thigh, and the other finds its way back to his torso, rubbing under his plating against his frame, then slipping down to rub against his valve panel.

"Wheeljack," Ultra Magnus says, vocalizer steady. "I didn't give you permission to open your valve back up."

"Frag," Wheeljack says, charge crackling. "When are you going to - ?"

"When I allow you to," Ultra Magnus says firmly.

A moment, and Wheeljack's hand returns to his thigh, holding him with both hands as he sucks harder.

He lifts his lips from Ultra Magnus' spike for a moment, and Ultra Magnus spots that smirk.

"Sir," he says, and takes his spike back in, fitting as much of it into his intakes as he can - admittedly not very much - but it feels warm and hot and Ultra Magnus shudders all over as his charge crests, breaking in an overload, whiting his systems out temporarily.

Wheeljack leans back on the berth, still kneeling, one hand braced on the berth as he grins, expression smug.

Ultra Magnus looks down at him, in an uncustomarily good mood, and he allows himself to reach out, touching one of Wheeljack's fins carefully.

He has Wheeljack's full attention - as if he didn't - and he uses it carefully.

"Ask me permission to open your valve and overload."

Wheeljack looks at him, optics wide, and nods slightly. "Can I lay the eggs too, or - "

"Ask permission."

"Yes, sir."

A moment. It's not easy for Wheeljack, even if it is raising his charge.

"Frag. Okay. Ultra Magnus - sir - may I open my valve, lay these eggs, and overload?"

"You may, soldier," Ultra Magnus answers, and Wheeljack closes his optics, groaning as his valve opens. He reaches for his node - but Ultra Magnus reaches out with his other hand, rubbing it for him as the first egg pushes free.

Wheeljack's optics open with a snap, and he overloads with a strangled shout.

It takes six more before all of the eggs are out, and he drops into recharge as soon as he hits the berth, leaving Ultra Magnus with a mess to clean up in his wake.

Typical.


End file.
